


Give me all of You

by DarthSuki



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Consensual NonCon, Dirty Talk, F/M, Possessive Behavior, Rape Fantasy, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 16:57:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8900404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthSuki/pseuds/DarthSuki
Summary: You, McCree and Gabriel decide to indulge in of of your kinks. 'Tis a commission of pure, lovely smut. There is no actual noncon in the fic (its all planned out and described as such), but it is still tagged just in case.





	

Even while the two of them are whispering gentle reassurances to you, the power in their words were unmatched. Your body yielded to their fingertips, pressing and manhandling you to the position they wanted, where they were quick and all-too-gentle in restraining you. The bindings were simple, but quite firm; there was no chance that you could break out of them, but it would be more than easy for either of your lovers to untie or even slice the smooth rope if needed.

There was a pocket knife on the nightstand, just in case. It was Reaper’s personal one, he always kept it strapped to his person. But tonight he’s stripped of all the layers of body-armor and accessories, down to his bare, scarred skin and gentle expression as he cups your face.

“Not too tight?” He whispers. You sit up and try the restraints on your wrists, and then the ones around your ankles--no give whatsoever. Once satisfied with this, you throw a gentle smile up towards Gabriel, who in-turn gives it to the third party sitting just behind him, going over something they’d set up at the foot of the bed that you hadn’t bothered to watch. 

“I think we got everything together,” McCree said, far too gentle and bright for what the two of them will be doing in just a few minutes more. He glances at you for a moment, a look of concern only briefly flashing over his expression. He’s clad in casual clothes--his hat, serape, and even peacekeeper have been safely tucked away. “And are you alright? You’re more than able t’back out if you need to, darlin’. I don’t want you t’think me or Gabe are pressurin’ you into any of this…”

“I’m alright,” You assure them, face warm with a flush for their concern and worry. “Nervous, but hey--I’m the one who brought it up to both of you in the first place, remember?”

“True point,” Jesse concedes, sighing as Gabriel starts to slide off of the bed, a grin on his face with far too many teeth than a normal human should have. The cyborg peers more firmly at you, as if hesitant to call the scene begun or not quite yet. “...You remember the safe words, right?”

You nod.

“Happy birthday,” You say, remembering back to originally picking it out with them the first time you three tried something together. Easy to remember, and never something anyone would use during sex. Gabriel seems satisfied with the answer, a gentle hum as he steps away from the bed to busy himself from something out of sight on the other side of the room.

“And your non-verbal?” McCree asks, his voice hanging between worry for you, and worry for asking another question. He’s apologized a couple times before about being so smothering when it comes to scenes, especially when the kinks in question are sensitive.

You gesture him closer as best you can with tied hands, and the man complies without a word. He half-leans onto the bed, close enough that you can gently grab and pull his face to yours, a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Humming happy birthday,” You whisper against his mouth. “Don’t worry Jesse, I’m okay, I promise. I wanna do this as much as you guys do.”

Your words seem to pacify the worry lingering in the back of your lover’s head; regardless, Gabriel’s voice fills the air as he returns to the bed, arms gently wrapping around the cowboy’s waist to tug him back, pressing his back to the other’s broad chest.

“Don’t worry,” he purrs. “Everything will be just fine.”

“I just don’t want anything to go wrong,” he says, accepting the affection with a roll of his eyes before slipping out of the wraith’s arms. “--or anyone t’get hurt.”

* * *

 

A period of ten or so minutes later sees you alone on the bed, bound, a blindfold over your face and a cloth gag lovingly tied around your head. Loose enough so that it doesn’t hurt, but tight enough to keep a feeling of muteness against your lips, a difficulty to speak if you even wanted to try--but you don’t.

It’s all part of the fun.

The room is dark, lights turned off for a length of time you’re only barely aware of. You’re almost bare-skinned, but the room isn’t cold, kept warm by the softly humming heater you can hear if you listen closely enough. You can hear a lot of things by listening hard enough, in fact--your heartbeat. Your breathing. And then, ever so lightly, something else: the sound of footsteps tapping along the floor. Two pairs of them, with one on either side.

One pair is trying to be quiet, and the other isn’t. You start to shiver in your binds, just a little, but it’s enough that you nearly jump when a hand suddenly touches the sensitive flesh of your hip.

“Look what we got here,” A deep, low voice growls somewhere in the space above you, to your left. “Didn’t think we’d catch ourselves somethin’ this pretty.”

The hand gets a little rougher, groping up your side, up over your chest before finally snagging your chin and forcing your face to look towards the source of the voice. You know who the voice belongs to, deep down, but your mind still races with the anonymity the blindfold forces upon it.

It makes your heart start beating a little harder.

The real kicker is when the hand reaches up and pulls the gag from your mouth. But the charade isn’t gone; not when you can start spitting venom instead.

“Don’t touch me,” You say, trying to let the words come out as deep and convincing as possible. Instead they sound small, too small, and all you get is laughter in response, a hard grip of fingers grabbing your face and pulling it to look the other way.

“You’ve in no position to argue,” another voice says, in a tone so low and sickly-sweet that it almost makes you want to gag. It does make you struggle at least, a feeble kick of your legs despite the bindings holding your ankles together.

“Woah now!” The first voice says, just before an arm wraps around your legs, pulling them towards a body that keeps them stiff and still. “Don’t need none of that now, darlin’. Why don’cha be good fer’ us? Make it real easy on ‘ya.”

You force your face back, out of the other’s grip. 

“I don’t have to make anything easy for you fuckers!”

An attempted kick is all you have time to do before the second man is ontop of you, forcing your struggling body into a submission. You can feel the warmth of his body, the pressure of his hands as one finds its way to your throat, and the other at your hip, just barely curling around the belt of your pants (which you’re surprised are still on your body by this point).

“You can make this as hard or as easy as you like, chica,” the new man whispers, so close to your face you can almost feel his lips over your own. “The more you struggle, the hotter it is when we finally get these clothes off and stuff your pussy with our cocks.” 

“Get’cha stuffed up real nice,” The first man cooed, patting your hip as if he’s giving a compliment to an animal who’s behaving. The gesture only angers you more, but you’re barely able to move, let alone struggle at this point. Fingers are pressing into your pants, the hem of your shirt--ripping and tearing noises eventually fill the air when you begin to realize just how desperate these two men are upon you. 

Within seconds, your body is exposed to the cool air of the room, your eyes still blinded by the dark cloth covering them--but you don’t need to see to know where they were, looming over your body like needy animals.

“Lookit’ this body,” the second says in a low, hungry tone. He’s still straddling your hips, hands now on your chest and groping up every inch of your skin. “These tits are real nice, chica. Shame that I gotta do this~” You didn’t even have enough time to spit out a question before your bra too was gone, ripped away as if it was a piece of paper off your skin.

Your panties were given no mercy either, torn from your hips by the first man's, hands eager and rough. It didn’t take long for the two of them to situate themselves. One of them, the southern-sounding one, forced your legs apart to kneel between them. The second man was over your chest, sitting astride.

It didn’t take a lot of thought to know what the sound of a zipper meant. 

“I wanna know what that damn pretty mouth feels around me,” The man above you whispered, voice haughty and dark. “Don’t you damn well think about biting me, putita, or you’ll fuckin’ regret it.” 

His fingers lace into your hair mere moments later, a tight grip that gave you no chance to struggle, to move your head out of the way before you could feel the hot, throbbing tip of a cock press to your lips. The man gently rubbed it over your mouth for a few moments, taking exquisite joy in either the sight or the feeling, before his other hand finally came down to firmly grab your jaw.

“Open your mouth,” The man commanded.

You hesitated only a moment, just a moment, but it was right then that you had forgotten entirely about the second man sitting between your legs, spreading your cunt open with eager, needy fingers. In the time that it took for you to think about the cock near your mouth, the other man had already taken a healthy look at your exposed sex and, just as roughly, thrust himself inside you.

The stretch wasn’t agony, thank god, but it was just enough of a burn that it made you gasp, lips parting as the sharp intake of air came with the thrust of another cock against your tongue.

“Good girl,” the man purred. “Keep that pretty mouth open for me…”

He started to thrust, a slow, but deep motion that kept you all but focusing on not choking on it. You could taste the musk of skin, feel the gentle throb of it against your tongue, the constant twitching of pleasure as the man took what he wanted from your swallowing mouth.

The stretch of your lips, your cunt, it gave you a surreal feeling of pure  _ sensation _ that was hard to think through at first, falling limp to both of the men’s eager, deep needs.

“So fuckin’ tight,” snarled the man between your legs. He opted to pull your legs around his waist, eager to get deeper still inside you with rough thrusts and dark, almost animalistic grunts. “This perfect lil’ cunt is gonna milk out every drop o’ me.”

The words, as filthy as they were, hit all the right spots in your quaking mind. When you writhed and moaned, both men let out a satisfied groan in response. Neither seemed to miss the effect their words, their voices, were starting to have on you.

“I think she likes that,” The man above you said, fingers curling tighter still into your hair. “Think this lil’ putita is more of a whore than we thought. You like us talking about how tight you are?” 

A sob, muffled around the man’s cock, was the best answer you could give, It was so good, so hot--your world consisted of the men upon you, their cocks inside you. For a while your world was nothing but pleasure, burning pleasure and need that only grew in intensity as they gripped at your body and fucked you harder.

“Y’should see this sweet pussy while it’s wrapped around a cock,” The man between your thighs has his fingers on your hips. They dig into your skin just enough to burn, to feel how the cold of one mechanical hand contrasts against the warm scratch of his other, fingernails digging into flesh. “Almost wanna take a picture jus’ to remember it. Almost like y’want me to fuck ya harder, darlin’.” 

Your response was lost in the sounds of slapping skin and deep grunts.

It didn’t take too long for them to get close to the crest of pleasure--a few more minutes of muffled growls and hard fucking, you could feel the man between your legs throbbing inside of you, getting closer, and closer still.

You can hear their grunts, their growls, as the noise seems to permeate the air and make you shiver every couple seconds. There’s just something about the noise, the need, the way both of them grip your body and use you for their pleasure. The cock inside you gets deeper, angled just right until it's hitting that blissful, perfect little spot inside of you.

_ It’s so fucking good _ .

“ ‘m gonna cum,” you hear distantly, unsure who even said it. “Gonna cum so fuckin’ hard, darlin’. Fill you up so full o’ me.”

There’s barely a coherent word from above you to signify that the other man is in agreement, just as close to the edge as the other, but you can feel it in how his fingers grip your hair, or how the other grips your hands above your head, somewhere between too rough and too gentle. 

The world is nothing more than heat and pleasure-

And then it finally snaps.

The first one to cum over the pinnacle is you, suddenly writhing harder as your body feels almost overcome with pleasure. The heat, the pressure, it all culminates in the center of your belly, a hot knot of pleasure that snaps and unravels, letting pleasure drip down your legs as they tighten harder still around the man between them.

You can feel the man between your quaking thighs spill inside you just a few seconds afterwards, his hands gripping even tighter over your hips. He grinds them against you at last, as if seeking out the deepest part to spill, to paint himself inside of you and lay claim over every part.

“Fuckfuckfuck--” He curses lowly. “Fuckin’minefuckin’mineallfuckin’mine darlin’--”

His words are interspersed by another voice, though it’s hard to make out what he’s saying when it’s all in broken, harsh, almost hissing spanish. It’s almost beautiful nevertheless, briefly warning you a few seconds before he too spilled inside your mouth. It was easy enough to swallow it all down, with him pressed so deep, just barely keeping your gag reflex from acting up--the bitter taste fills the back of your tongue but you do the best to swallow every drop, making the man quiver with overstimulated pleasure when he finally, slowly, pulls his softening dick from your mouth.

He cradles your face in his hand for a moment as the other man finishes the last moments of his orgasm, leaking the last few drops inside your channel before shifting.

“....Fuck,” he whispers. “That was so damn good.”

You hear the man above you chuckle in response, one hand holding your chin so a thumb could gently press over your lips, wiping off the last few drops of pearly cum.

And then, slowly, the man climbs off of you. The blindfold comes off barely a moment later, and the wrist bindings are slowly untied.

“....Are you alright?” You hear in question. As the cloth is pulled away, you are finally able to take in the wonderful sight of the men around you. McCree is still between your legs, stroking them gently and watching your face with an equally careful and warm expression. Gabriel is beside you, rubbing his thumbs over your wrists where the ropes had left slight marks. 

Though still a touch in subspace, you offer both of the men a gentle nod (being too afraid of what your voice might sound like). McCree slowly slips out of you at that, making you wince just a slight from the uncomfortable but unavoidable sensation.

Within the next couple minutes, your smothered with love, attention, and a multitude of gentle questions that you barely need to shake or nod our head to answer--no need to speak anymore than that. A bottle of water, a warm blanket, a damp rag carefully cleaning you off. The two of your lovers are ever so careful with you, leaving you feeling a perfectly pleasant afterglow that lingers even when you’re lying between them, their powerful arms and warm bodies pressed up against you.

“....You’re okay?” McCree asks beside you, perhaps the third time since.

“Yeah,” You murmur happily. Your eyelids feel heavy, your mind muffled and tired in the most satisfying way. “Feel really good, actually….You guys doin’ good too?”

The men take a moment before you hear them chuckle, a sound so warm and gentle that it makes your heart leap a little bit. Their arms tangle lovingly around you, tight enough to keep you close, warm, feeling layers of safety.

“Yeah, babe,” Gabriel murmurs. “We’re doing wonderful.”

The three of you fall asleep sometime later, comforter overtop your warm, tangled bodies.


End file.
